


The King's Request

by Panadopolis



Category: Mother 3
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Missing Scene, Mother 3 Spoilers, headcanons, masked man's reconstruction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-10-25 00:11:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20714870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panadopolis/pseuds/Panadopolis
Summary: Fassad supervises the human chimera's reconstruction, and makes a small request on behalf of King P.





	The King's Request

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of a character study to flesh out Fassad's characterization - I've always been interested in Fassad's animosity towards Lucas, and how that would affect his relationship with the commander. 
> 
> Originally written in June '19 for a starmen.net monthly prompt post.

Fassad marched through the corridors of the Chimera Lab. The Pigmasks he passed saluted him nervously, while the scientists and technicians simply gave him a curious glance – if they even bothered looking up from their work. Typical humans. So engrossed in their pathetically short, petty little lives.

He very rarely visited the Chimera Lab. It wasn’t that he found the twisted creatures on display _distasteful_, exactly. Indeed, his… former _comrades_ had designed some pretty strange creatures over the millennia. Rather, King P had seen fit to deploy Fassad’s talents elsewhere. Dealing with the simple-minded villagers, working on the Happy Box program, hunting down the Egg of Light... all tasks that required a certain finesse lacking in the bumbling Pigmask soldiers. As a result, Fassad was far too busy to check in on the latest abominations-chum-amusements made for his king, and frankly he couldn’t care less.

Today, however, he had important business at the Chimera Lab. There was a new chimera in the works, one that King P had taken considerable interest in.

Fassad wandered all the way to the back of the Chimera Lab. This particular specimen was kept in an isolated, high-clearance, top-secret area in an entire laboratory full of high-clearance, top-secret areas.

There were two Pigmask guards dozing on either side of the door. Before Fassad had a chance to yell at them, they quickly snapped to attention and saluted like their lives depended on it.

Fassad scowled. Much as he would have loved to give these so-called guards a piece of his mind, he had important business to attend to. He didn’t have time to deal with incompetent underlings.

Fassad swiped his security card and entered the little room.

At first glance, the room was nothing out of the ordinary for the Chimera Lab. It was a windowless, white-walled, utilitarian room. Various tools and contraptions were scattered across every available surface. In the centre of the room was a large metallic operating table, illuminated by a bank of bright lights positioned overhead. Behind that was a suspension tank filled with green liquid. Off to the side were a desk, chair, and simple bed, all covered with notebooks and papers.

Despite being a tad messy and disorganized, the workspace was clean and sterile, and in far better shape than most places he’d seen in the Chimera Lab. Whoever worked here was either very meticulous about their work, or easily repulsed by body fluids and other by-products of the chimerization process. Possibly both.

Apart from that, it was a perfectly unremarkable room. What made the room special, and what necessitated the extra security procedures, was its occupant. The young child lying on the operating table had the honour of being the Fascinating Chimera Project’s first human subject. His entire body was covered in scars and bruises – some were from his surgical operations, while others were from his initial accident. His skin was an unhealthy pale colour, and his simple clothes were torn and covered in dried blood. Several tubes and wires were attached to his body, connected to the life support systems keeping him alive until his reconstruction was completed. His eyes were closed and his face was contorted into a small grimace, as if he was merely having a bad dream instead of hovering on the cusp of death.

Fassad shuddered briefly. He still couldn’t get over the child’s face, a perfect copy of a certain troublesome blond boy. He remembered that humiliating night as if it was yesterday – to have victory torn from him at the last possible moment, by the hands of a child no less. His bruises had long since healed, but not his pride.

“Oh, do knock first,” called a weary voice. “You almost startled me – that would have been disastrous if I was still holding the scalpel.”

It was a balding man wearing thick glasses and a simple white lab coat, currently measuring the child’s vital signs. The man was gaunt and pale, and looked only marginally healthier than his patient on the operating table.

King P had informed Fassad that this was the great Dr. Andonuts, a brilliant scientist who had been kidnapped from his own timeline to work for King P as his chief engineer. With considerable reluctance, or so Fassad figured – unlike nearly all of the other workers at the Chimera Lab, this one wasn’t nearly so… callous. Why, he had a basic respect for the _dignity_ of life, and even seemed to find the whole chimera business _repulsive_.

Which meant that someone had to carefully manage him and ensure that he complied with King P’s orders – and unlike a certain late and unlamented monkey servant, King P wouldn’t let Fassad just slap an electric collar on him.

“Regardless, you have good timing. I’ve just finished up my surgery for the day. Once he’s been cleaned up, I’ll move him back into the tank for healing.” The scientist carefully replaced his tools and dusted himself off. “Now, I assume that King P sent you – what can I do for you?” he asked with forced cheerfulness.

“First, give me your progress report, Doctor.”

The scientist sighed deeply. “Progress is very slow, I’m afraid. He can only survive outside of the tank for a few hours at a time, which means I have to make his modifications one by one. Besides, the work itself is a painstaking and delicate process – I can’t afford to make any mistakes when installing his new parts, or when attaching his biological and mechanical components together.” He sighed. “I will require at least another week, plus time to let the child adjust and recover once he wakes up.”

“Fine,” muttered Fassad, although the project had taken a month already.

“On a happier note, I’ve finished installing most of his vital systems, which is the most intensive and time-consuming part of the project. Once he’s rested and healed, I’ll be able to start on his central processor – essentially, it’ll be a computer system implanted in his brain to monitor and control his mechanical components.”

At this point he beamed, and colour began returning to his face. “The possibilities are amazing. He’s still a child – that means his brain is still developing. His brain can form new connections and integrate itself with the central processor – it’ll be an organic brain-computer interface, one that can _grow_ and _develop_.” He clapped his hands together. “Can you imagine? He’ll be capable of things we can only dream of. The memory capacity of a computer, the natural curiousity of a child… Imagine the things he can do. Imagine what he can _learn_.”

_Imagine what a fine soldier he’d make_, Fassad thought cynically. _A meld of machine precision and human cunning_. He was under no pretenses of what King P intended for this child. Still, let the scientist indulge in his naïve optimism. It would give him a much-needed boost to his morale.

Out loud Fassad said, “Good. I’ll be sure to let King P know of your progress, and how pleased you are with this specimen.” He smirked. “If only you could muster this same enthusiasm for some of your other projects.”

The scientist mumbled in protest. He immediately paled, and looked like he was about to be ill.

“Now, back to business… do you require any more supplies?”

“Yes, I’ll soon need transistors and some microchips – hang on, it’s rather technical, let me copy it down for you…” He grabbed a worn notepad off of his desk and tore off a fresh sheet. He hastily scribbled some notes and carefully handed it to Fassad. “Give this to the robotics technicians, they’ll know what I’m looking for.”

Fassad curtly nodded. “Good. I’ll have them delivered with your next meal shipment.” Fassad kept tight security over this particular room – apart from Fassad’s infrequent visits, the only visitor permitted was a Clayman that delivered food and any requested supplies once a week. In addition to keeping prying eyes away from the human chimera, the extra security helped keep the scientist on task and focused on his work, as opposed to distractions like _escape plans_.

Fassad frowned, glancing back at the scientist. He looked a tad malnourished. “You have been eating, haven’t you? I know King P’s been rather stingy with his rations lately-”

The scientist mumbled something about not being hungry and being sick to his stomach most of the time anyways. Then, clearly not wishing to discuss the topic further, he grabbed a bottle of disinfectant and started cleaning the boy’s wounds.

“Hmph. You need to keep your strength up. After all, the last thing we want is _two_ corpses running around here, nwehehehe!” Fassad chuckled at his little joke. “Ah, that reminds me. King P sent me to make a small request on his behalf. What is the child’s current condition? Is he… awake?”

The scientist thought for a moment. A brief spasm of revulsion crossed his face. “Mechanically speaking, he’s alive. His artificial heart’s beating, and we’ve got him hooked up to life support. But he’s still unconscious – as far as I can tell he isn’t awake or aware of what’s happening. I’ve also been keeping him heavily sedated, just in case.” He paused. “Once his systems are fully complete I’ll activate his central processor, then we’ll let him wake up. It’ll… come as a shock, I expect.” From the expression on his face, it was clear he was not looking forward to it.

“Ah, there’s the rub. King P wants to know if you can… ah… wake the child early?”

“Oh – good heavens no. Performing surgery is difficult enough without your patient thrashing and screaming in agony, and in this case-"

He gasped, realizing the full horror of what Fassad was asking.

“No… no… it can’t be… not even King P could be so cruel…"

His hands trembled violently. The bottle he was holding fell to the floor and shattered.

“I think both you and I know the answer to that,” Fassad remarked dryly. “King P has informed me in no uncertain terms that he is incredibly bored, and is very impatient for his little project to be completed. He can’t wait to play with his new toy. This would… whet his appetite, so to speak. He said it would amuse him, at the very least.”

“_Amuse_ him.” The scientist was no longer pale – instead, his face was flush with anger. A large vein was throbbing in his head. “He thinks torturing a child is _amusing_-!"

“I don’t think you’re in any position to criticize King P’s character flaws,” Fassad replied smoothly. “However, I can understand your predicament, seeing as King P’s request would make things… quite inconvenient for you. The child would likely be very uncooperative if he was awake.”

“Inconvenient,” the scientist repeated dully. “Uncooperative.” His knuckles were white, and he clenched his fists in rage.

“As impatient as King P is,” Fassad continued smoothly, as if the scientist hadn’t interrupted him, “I’m sure I can make him see reason. After all, we don’t want to accidentally break his new toy before he has a chance to play with it. I’ll talk to him and see if we can come to an alternate arrangement.”

Fassad sighed. “Unhappily, that would create a lot of extra work on my part. After all, King P gets so _cranky_ when he can’t have his way. It’s not something I’ll do out of the goodness of my heart, nwehehehe! Instead, I’m proposing we make… a bargain, of sorts. A mutually beneficial arrangement.”

The scientist said nothing, still fuming in rage. At last he hissed, “Is this _blackmail_ –"

“Ah, hear me out before you make such nasty accusations. I _am_ acting on your side, after all. If you agree, I shall arrange with King P to make your child’s operation… as smooth and painless as possible under the circumstances. In return, I’m asking you for a small favour. It won’t take much of your time – I know you’re a very busy man.”

He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to the scientist.

“It’s a side project, so to speak. It’ll give you something to work on while you’re waiting for the child to recover between surgeries. Perhaps it’ll even amuse King P.”

The scientist frowned. “A helmet? I don’t understand – what is the meaning of this? Why do you want-”

“None of your concern. Consider it my gift for the child.”

It would be easy enough to persuade King P to accept the idea – the helmet would make his little robot look so much _cooler_, and remove it one step further from the human child it once was. And if Fassad didn’t have to look at the blasted child’s _face_ anymore, well, so much the better.

Fassad grinned nastily. “So, do we have a _deal_?”

The scientist mumbled to himself, struggling with his conscience. But he had no choice – he _had_ to agree, the soft-hearted wretch.

“Fine. I’ll do it – to protect the child. Let him be free of suffering for a little while longer.” He buried his face in his hands.

“_Excellent_. It was a pleasure to do business with you, Doctor.”

Fassad flashed a devilish grin, then turned to leave.


End file.
